


Burning for the Stars

by Helyme



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Holiday Harbinger, Light Angst, No Shepard without Vakarian, Reunions, Turians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-17 23:41:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17570153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helyme/pseuds/Helyme
Summary: Palaven is burning, and all Garrus can think about is her.





	Burning for the Stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [frenchpichux](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=frenchpichux).



He never thought he would see it. The end of Palaven. Of thousands of years of history, of entire cities and clans and families. He blinked as the fires flickered merrily across the planets surface, as cheery as an open hearth. 

Screams and bullets echoed off the rocky landscape, interrupted only by the soft thump of harvester wings or the roar of the Reapers as they cut down the desperate armies swarming them like flies. Despite months of preparing, of analysing the Reaper data Garrus had taken from the collector base, setting up new warning protocols and stockpiling supplies, they were still woefully unprepared. 

He checked over the standard issue rifle he had been given once again, gritting his teeth. Cursing for what had to be the thousandth time at the stupid, spirits-damned busy-body officials who had taken his precious Viper, having deemed it “potentially dangerous Cerberus technology”. Hardly. No more dangerous than the screes of Reaper forces tearing through Turian space.

Garrus sighed, a big heaving breath that did nothing to loosen the knot that had tied itself in his chest the moment Shepard had stepped through her cabin doors. Exhausted, beaten, and with the souls of 300,000 resting on her shoulders.

_She staggered towards the steps, knees buckling as Garrus leaped from the couch, quickly sliding an arm around her waist. Fear crawled its way up his throat as he took in her haggard look, armour scorched, beaten, and in desperate need of repair. The fury that had dimmed to a simmer over the three days since she vanished without a word died completely as she leaned into the warmth of his side. Shepard looked up at him, eyes glittering with tears and ghosts._

_“They’re all dead, Garrus.”_

_He remained silent, easing her onto the couch as she swallowed thickly. As soon as the relay had blown, he had known what he would find when she stepped through those doors._

_Her gaze turned to the ceiling, to the billions of stars zooming overhead. “I tried to warn them.” She croaked. “The… the Reapers were coming. Moments away from using the relay as some kind of back door.”_

_He paused, taking a moment to grip the arm slung weakly across her lap. Her head snapped upright, and her green eyes bored with laser-like intensity into his blue ones._

_“I believe you.”_

_Her relief was palpable, and she let out a soft sigh as he clicked his talons into the latches of her armour, releasing them with a small hiss._

_Reapers. Here already. The thought set his stomach churning._

_His voice came out with a crackle, but she didn’t blink as he continued slowly peeling her from her filthy armour._

_“Tell me everything.”_

They had talked into the small hours of the morning that night. Argued for another few, until tears streamed down her face and his mandibles quivered. A week, they’d had. A week to make desperate plans and countermeasures - and goodbyes - before she voluntarily walked back into the arms of those who would condemn her. 

A small, bitter smile tugged at his mandibles, and he scuffed one boot against the dusty rocks of the moon’s surface. How many of those officials were still alive? Those that had turned up their noses and scoffed at his frantic call to action. At Shepard, dismissing her claims as “Cerberus propaganda” and “obviously unreliable and affected by her unfortunate experiences”. Unreliable. Like she hadn’t just saved them all, _multiple_ times. 

His expression soured, and his gaze flickered to the edges of the camp perched at the top of the ridge ahead. He should probably head back. He hadn’t heard a peep from his comms, meaning the tower was probably down again. Garrus set a steady pace, quickly darting from cover to cover, avoiding the falling rocks and debris that came skittering down with each explosion.

The edge of the camp had just come into sight when his comms crackled back to life. 

“Vakarian, are you still out there?” Victus's voice. Tinny, and barely coherent, but there.

A sigh of relief. The camp hasn’t been overrun - yet. At least, there was more of a chance if Victus was still alive and kicking.

“Affirmative, just coming up to the southern ridge.” He grunted in reply.  
“Good, we have Alliance here to pick up the new Primarch, whoever it is.”

Alliance? Here? His surprise caught him off guard, and he let out a sharp hiss as his knee connected with the edge of the boulder he was scrambling over. They had to know, had to tell him if Shepard was ok. If anything happened...

It came out sharper than he expected. “Who is it? From the Alliance?”

It felt like an eternity before the tinny, tired voice at the other end finally said the golden words he had been desperate to hear.

“Its Commander Shepard, with the Normandy” 

Those words ignited the fire, burning as brightly as Palaven above him. Hardening his resolve, bringing light into the darkest corners of his heart. 

Never again would he leave her side. Never again would he allow bureaucratic bullshit to separate them. He let out a snort as he flew over the rocks towards the camp gates. Bullshit. He liked that word. It was one of the first Shepard had taught him.

The sentries at the gates barely had the chance to wave him on through before he was inside, their words fading to a background buzz as he made his way towards the familiar figures talking with the grizzled general.

“... I don’t care who, as long as they can get us the turian resources we need.” 

Her voice, exhausted but still fighting. The comfort of it slipped over his shoulders like an old mantle, and he felt himself settling into the easy swagger he hadn’t worn since he had stepped off the Normandy.

“I’m on it Shepard. We’ll find you the Primarch.” _I’ll always have your six._

“Garrus!” The sound of his name on her lips sent a shiver down his spine. Although she remained the picture of professionalism, he saw the way her eyes danced, and the corner of her mouth tug upwards.

“You’re alive.” She breathed, and he wondered if he was the only one who heard the hitch in her voice. _And I'll have yours._

He grasped her hand, wrapping together like they had been made to fit. Her eyes met his, and the smallest gasp of relief escaped her. He saw the browplates of those around him rise as he slipped his other hand atop of hers, caressing the underside of her wrist as they wrapped around her. Let them talk. He was past caring. 

“I’m hard to kill - you should know that”. _I missed you._

And as the grin cracked across her tired features, he knew he was right where he was supposed to be. Because she was the stars, and he would burn forever for her.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this, I had fun writing it. Feel free to send any cc <3


End file.
